Lunar
by pygmypuff8
Summary: She was his strange girl. His moon and stars girl.


**AN: This is a fic for the Mystery Couple competition, Week 3. The pairing, obviously, is Draco/Luna. Warning for an f-bomb, sorry. Read and enjoy! And please, please, please review! I LOVE feedback.**

**Edit: I've got this fic betaed and edited, so please excuse all mistakes I made before.**

**Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.**

* * *

Draco first noticed the strange Ravenclaw girl in his third year.

He was on his way to Potions, grumpy because he had gotten detention for _scaring_ stupid _Potter_ on the Quidditch field with the stupid Dementor outfit. Stupid git. Can't even tell when a Dementor is real or not.

Walking along and quietly grumbling to himself, he didn't notice a slight girl with pale hair, haphazardly pulled up behind her head, threatening to fall out of its knot and a slightly glassy look in her eyes as she held up a copy of _The Quibbler_ open before her.

Smack! Shaking his head, dazed, Draco saw the pale girl rubbing her head and gently picking up her magazine and dusting it down, which had flown out of her hands.

Sneering at her, completely ignoring the fact that he had been doing the exact same, he jeered, "Maybe if your head wasn't buried in that junk, you would actually pay attention to where you were going, freak."

Expecting her to start sobbing and run away, everyone else always did, he was surprised when she calmly looked up at him, and said in a strange, lilting, sing-song voice, "Maybe if your head weren't so full of Nargles, you wouldn't be so mean."

Staring after her in confusion, Draco watched the girl waltz away, again with the book open under her nose, seeming completely unaffected by his cruel words.

He was still frowning in confusion in the direction the girl had went off to, when Pansy ran past him, yelling, "Come on slow-poke! Bet I can beat you to Potions."

Sticking out her tongue at him, she ran on with Draco hot on her heals, grinning delightedly, the strange girl all but erased from his mind.

* * *

The second time the girl attracted his notice, was in the middle of fourth year.

He was sitting in the library, studying for his Transfiguration test, determined to get a good grade on this test. His Transfiguration grade has been slipping recently and he had to get his grade up again to please his father. Even if he was sure that it is partly Professor Moody's fault, as, since he had been turned into a ferret by the crazy old man, he had had an irrational fear of the subject.

His brow furrowing tremendously, he was concentrated so fiercely on the Transfiguration book in front of him that he didn't notice the person sliding into the seat across from him, until he felt the uncomfortable sensation of someone staring at him.

Looking up, he saw that self-same Ravenclaw girl he had failed to reduce to tears the year before, calmly sitting in front of him with her eyes fixed on his.

Scowling at her, he stared back, waiting for her to look away.

After five minutes of mutual staring, Draco finally couldn't take in anymore, and hissed, "What do you want?"

Tilting her head curiously at him, she replied calmly, "Nothing," and went right back to staring at him.

Getting hot under the collar, noticing the curious glances of the few other students in the library on them, he growled, "Well, go away then."

He made a shooing motion with his hand, but the girl only looked at him as if he were an extremely entertaining puzzle, before saying, "You are an extremely strange person. I've never seen such a combination of Nargles and Wrackspurts around one person at one time. Very strange indeed. Oh, and by the way, your inkpot is about to tip over."

Hurriedly looking down, he saw that she had indeed been right. Quickly righting his inkpot by moving it away from the edge of the table where it had been teetering, he looked up indignantly, about to demand to know what right she had to call him strange, when she herself was clearly of her rocker. Only to find her disappearing out the door of the library.

Frowning, he endeavoured to put the words of the strange girl out of his mind and concentrate on his Transfiguration work. Unfortunately, he couldn't get the strange girl out of his mind, and spent the whole afternoon, daydreaming about creatures with wings, fluttering around his head, and strange girls with pale hair, almost like his own, and luminous blue eyes.

Needless to say, he didn't do well on his Transfiguration test, and Father was not impressed.

* * *

He learned her name in quite an unexpected way, only a week later.

He was walking along the corridors of Hogwarts, minding his own business, when he noticed the girl Weasel and his strange girl walking around in front of him, talking animatedly. Well, the girl Weasel was, at least.

Creeping up behind them, he eavesdropped on their conversation.

"- I wish I could go to the Yule Ball! Only fourth years and up are allowed to attend, and I don't think that's fair. Why shouldn't third years get to go? Don't you feel the same, Luna?"

Seeing his strange girl open her mouth to speak, he realised that her name must be Luna. He smiled, oddly pleased at the peculiarly fitting name to this strange, luminous girl.

"I think it's very unfair. But, then again, when has life ever been fair?"

Shrugging her slight shoulders, Luna walked on with the girl Weasel, leaving a thoughtful Draco behind her, mulling over her words that seemed to hold more wisdom than was usual for a thirteen year old girl.

* * *

The fourth time he encountered Luna, as he now knew her name to be, was at the start of fifth year, late at night, on his first prefect patrol.

When he had first received his prefect badge in the mail, he had been ecstatic. His father had smiled an uncommonly proud and kind smile, and his mother had been beaming at him, and telling him he could have whatever he wanted for dinner.

Draco had been as puffed up as a peacock when he had climbed onto the Hogwarts Express with his shiny new prefect badge waving goodbye to his parents.

His shining good mood, however, had rapidly deteriorated as he saw that the _Weasel_ and _Granger_ had been made prefects as well.

Granted, he could've understood Granger, as, loathe as he was to admit it, she was smart, but _Weasley?_ It boggled his mind. Only goes to show that his father was right about Dumbledore. The senile old coot.

His mood had lightened a bit when they were at the Welcoming Feast and he stuffed himself full of food until he was ready to drop.

Only to hear that it didn't matter how drowsy he was, it was his turn to patrol the corridors.

_Fan-_bloody_-tastic_.

Stalking angrily through the darkened and abandoned corridors, having ditched his irritating Hufflepuff partner, he almost didn't notice the slight pale figure sitting in the moonlight in one of the abandoned classrooms.

Frowning, wondering what _she_ was doing out of her bed this time of night, he walked quietly up to her.

Coming nearer, he realized that her eyes were closed and her head was tilted back as if she was bathing herself in the moonlight. Where the light touched her skin, it looked almost transparent, even paler than his own skin. Her hair, a shade or two lighter than his, flowed around her still form like a silver river.

Clearing his throat, she looked up curiously at him, seemingly not even startled.

"You know it's after curfew, right?"

His, voice, strikingly loud after the almost ethereal silence that had enveloped her before, sounded harsh and crass to his ears, and he winced.

Smiling up at him, she replied in her melodic voice, "I know."

Waiting, but receiving no other answer, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet and, a bit exasperated, said, "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, and, frankly, I don't care. But you have to get back to your dormitory. And I will be reporting this, so be sure of losing points."

Having said that, he glared at her a bit, but she only smiled up at him, and, shocking him, patted the space beside her.

So shocked was he, that he fell down next to her, dumbstruck.

So there they sat, Luna every once in a while making a seemingly random comment about the moon, stars, or once, oddly enough, his hair.

Even though Draco knew he was acting mental, he stayed there, only standing to go when she stood up and softly said goodnight.

He was there again the next night. So was she.

* * *

They continued to meet at the same place at midnight all through his fifth year.

Sometimes they just sat next to each other, silently enjoying the other's company. Other times, Draco almost died laughing at the creatures that Luna described to him. Luna could never understand why he laughed so uproariously, but she liked seeing the normally scowling boy so free with his smiles. So, she smiled along with him.

When Dumbledore's Army was caught, Draco made sure that he chased after Luna, and, catching her, made sure that she got back safely to Ravenclaw Tower.

When he learned that she had been there at the Ministry when his father had been there, he felt awful.

What she must have thought of Draco when she saw his father there, he had no idea. He just hoped she wouldn't hold it against him, as, strangely, she had become one of his only friends to whom he could truly tell anything, and know that they wouldn't judge.

That is, until he was forced to take the mark in the summer after fifth year. He had no idea what she would say to that. Not that he planned on telling her. Ever.

* * *

The first time he saw her in his sixth year, was on his first night patrol, a week after the school had started.

He saw her sitting in the same place they had met the previous year.

Seeing her, sitting there, he felt a pang of some feeling he couldn't identify, and, swallowing away his nervousness, sat down next to her.

Without turning her head toward him, Luna said, "I knew you would show up if I waited long enough."

Almost bristling at her all-knowing tone, Draco answered defensively, "How would you know. For all you knew I could finally have realised what a freak you are and decided I'm better off without you."

Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, Draco felt bad for saying it, but before he could try and apologize, Luna turned to him, smiling, "Simple, I know you."

With that, he felt at peace again.

Here was a friend he could trust to bear with his thoughtless words and cruel taunts, simply because she was who she was. She was Luna, and, strangely enough, she was the best friend he had ever had.

* * *

Sixth year was difficult.

It was bone-crushingly, mind-numbingly hard. And Draco was scared. He was so scared, that sometimes, he didn't know if it was worth it to go on living.

He was going to fail anyway, so he might just as well kill himself and spare himself from the torture that is surely coming his way when he failed.

Whenever he got close to picking up a knife and ending it all, or looking at a rope and thinking how _easy_ it would be to hang himself, images of his mother appeared before him. From before she sent him away to school, kneeling before him and making him _promise_ he would do the best he could. That he would try and complete the task set to him, however hard it may seem. That he _will not give up._

Sometimes, when even his mother, pleading with him to survive, wasn't enough, there came images of Luna. Simply smiling at him, a simple, uncomplicated smile that yet made him feel as if she knew what he was going through. Even if he had never told her, and never will.

So scared and miserable was he, that when he heard about the ridiculous Christmas Party Slughorn was throwing for his favoured students, he snorted and scoffed, utterly unaffected by the prospect of it.

Until one night.

* * *

He was sitting with Luna in their usual spot, simply sitting next to her and gazing at the stars, when her voice interrupted his silent reverie.

"Harry invited me to go to Slughorn's Christmas Party with him. As friends."

Her voice broke into the quiet they had sat in very suddenly, so that it took a few moments for the meaning of Luna's words to sink in.

Once it did, however, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of such over-powering jealousy and hatred, that he didn't reply to Luna's comment.

"Aren't you happy for me? I've never been invited to a party, as friends, in my life."

Looking at Luna, confused about the strong emotions her words had unlocked in him, he scoffed, and said, "Potty? You're going with _Scar-head?_ I would've thought you had better taste Luna."

Expecting her to just make another one of her mystical comments, he was surprised when her she said indignantly, "Harry is my _friend._"

Surprised at her heated tone, he looked over to her, and seeing the protectiveness on her face, he felt an odd surge of jealousy, and said peevishly: "What about me? Aren't I your friend?"

Frowning, Luna said, "Of course you are, but Harry is my friend too."

Angry at himself, for feeling _jealousy_, of all things, and at her, for not understanding, as she usually did, why he was upset, even though he didn't rightly know himself, he scoffed, stood up and said, "Well, if you have that many _friends_, you hardly need me, do you?"

So saying, he walked away, turmoil in his mind and thoughts, and not seeing the hurt expression on Luna's face, or her whispered, "But you're my _best_ friend."

* * *

Draco was angry at himself. Luna too, but mostly himself. He had just royally fucked up the only friendship he really treasured, and he can't even be mad at Luna, for he was sure she would forgive him if he said sorry. He was just being a stubborn jackass and he knew it.

Every time he saw her in the hallways, he saw how she looked at him, a confused expression on her face. He also knew that she still waited for him in the evenings, as he heard from his fellow prefects that the odd Loony Lovegood girl was still sitting in her usual place, every night.

He knew, and heard, but he couldn't bring himself to face her, not before he figured out his own confusing emotions.

What he couldn't bring himself to understand, was why he had had such a strong reaction to her words. She had said she and _Potter_ were going 'as friends' quite a couple of times, so he couldn't be jealous over that.

Besides, he didn't like her that way, did he? No it was ridiculous, of course he didn't.

And yet…. And yet he had noticed that he had begun to notice a few new things about. Such as, how she always tilted her head before she said something particularly unbelievable, as if she was daring him to say something about it. Or the way, when she had been staring at the stars for a long time, she would begin singing the constellations to herself, pausing when she came to Draco, and singing it over and over and over. Or the way she had when she ate, when he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes at mealtimes, of cutting up her food into precise pieces, and looking at them very closely before eating them, as if she was looking for another one of her strange creatures. There was also the way her hair flowed down her back, like a shimmering carpet of starlight, especially in the moonlight.

Okay, so maybe. A little. But only a little bit. He only liked her a little bit, not a lot. Definitely not.

* * *

On the night of Slughorns party, Draco was pacing restlessly in the common room, irritating its other inhabitants tremendously, until they finally threw him out, saying that he could come back when he wasn't so wound up about homework.

Because that's the excuse he had given them for his pacing. That he was worried that the last piece of homework he had given in for Potions (ironically) had been faulty.

That couldn't have been farther from the truth. He was worried alright, but not about homework.

He was worried about Luna. Since he had figured that he liked her, _a little bit_, he had been going to greater lengths to avoid her than ever. It hadn't even been hard, what with his _project _taking up so much of his time. It had been dishearteningly easy, in fact. Unfortunately, that meant he had more time to think about the futileness of his life, as he had no new memories of Luna to draw upon, and the old ones were becoming ineffective.

Cursing in frustration, he shook his head and made his way to Slughorns office, determined to sneak in and talk to Luna, and damn his cowardice thrice to hell for not doing it earlier.

* * *

Having made his way to Slughorns office door, he stood in front of it, unsure of how to proceed, as he wasn't sure if you had to show an invite to get in or what.

Having just made up his mind to simply open the door, his hand actually reaching out to the door handle, a hand closed around his shoulder, and he looked around with a sinking heart, right into the gleeful face of Argus Filch.

* * *

After the altercation with Snape, who had dragged him out of the party and then _demanded_ to know what it was he trying to do and to let him help Draco, Draco had taken to wandering around the corridors of Hogwarts, reluctant to go back to his common room and pace away the night, as he was not in the least tired.

He was just turning the corner, when he realised someone was following him. The soft tip-tap of another person's footsteps echoed softly behind him and, turning around, he faced her.

It was, of course, Luna who had been following him, as he could recognize her tread anywhere.

"Why are you following me?"

Instead of answering his question, she moved closer and said, "I like you, you like me. Why are we not doing anything about that?"

She had tilted her head in the old way, daring him to contradict her, and he found that he couldn't.

"I- I know. But I'm not good for you, really I'm not. I'm doing something bad right now, and believe me, you don't want to be caught up in it."

Surprising him, she lifted up her hand and brushed away the soft strands of his hair that had fallen over his eyes, and said, softly, "I know. I saw you Dark Mark when you fell asleep that one time. Your shirtsleeve had lifted up, and I saw it."

Mortified that she had seen his darkest secret, he made to brush away her hand and walk away, but was stopped by a gentle hand on his face.

Leaning closer to him, she whispered in his ear, "I don't care what marks you have on your body, you are a beautiful person, I know you, remember?"

Smiling softly at the thunderstruck expression on his face, she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his.

Frozen for a second under the gentle and clumsy administration of what was obviously her first kiss, Draco's mind raced through the implications of what she had just said.

Joy bloomed in his chest as he realised she didn't care about the Dark Mark, and he started to hesitantly kiss back her untrained lips, before stilling, and gently pushing her of him, said urgently, "I don't think you understand. I'm doing something dreadful right now, in this year, month, week, whatever. I don't think-"

Silencing him with a hand to his lips, she said: "I know you're probably doing something awful, but I don't care. I'll never care, 'cause I know what kind of person you really are."

Her lips covered his again, and, groaning in surrender, and just wanting this _one night_, he gently took control of the kiss, falling thankfully into the oblivion of '_later'._


End file.
